Not Your Typical School Injury
by Zamara27
Summary: One of Gotham Acadamy's Professors is still at school late into the night. When he hears a voice coming from outside his window, he decides to investigate. He was not expecting to find the Boy Wonder himself.


A/N

WARNING: I'm sorry if I messed up any medical technicalities. I am not a medical expert. I did my best. All else fails, pretend that the Professor is doing a professional job. Thank you. Also, I'm sorry if any of my characters seem OOC.

DISCLAIMER: The only things I own are Professor Blackburn and the story.

On that note, hope you enjoy!

…..

Professor Blackburn was writing up a report. His classroom was empty. The window was cracked open, letting in the cool breeze that showed up around 11:00 PM. He was scribbling the names of the five children down.

Some days it was just plain difficult, teaching kids that didn't want to learn, that didn't want to even try. Precalculus wasn't overly hard, nor was it a hard class to teach, but when you catch five of your students cheating in a single day… Let's just say it was hard to imagine the day going downhill from there, despite it being Gotham City. These were the days he truly felt like he wasted his medical degree. Goodness, high schoolers could be so stupid! And now, on top of having to grade a plethora of tests and late homework, he had to fill out a document to the principle informing him of the cheaters.

There was a rustling noise followed by a voice. "Ugh, Batman is going to kill me for this!"

Professor Blackburn's hand froze and his body tensed. He heard the slamming of a metal box, then a small gasp of pain.

Now, normally one would shut the window and leave well enough alone, especially after school hours, and especially in the crime-ridden Gotham City. But his boredom, frustration, and curiosity got the better of him as he stood up and made his way to the door. He grabbed his walking cane on the way out. He didn't need it, although his age would suggest otherwise. He could walk just fine, but it made a good weapon from time to time, even saved him from a couple muggers himself.

He honestly wasn't sure what to expect when he turned the corner. Maybe a mugger, maybe some kid out late, some hobo perhaps. He was not expecting to see the Boy Wonder himself, sitting cross-legged by a bush, red metal first aid box by his side. The kid looked to be nursing a wound, hissing as he took an antiseptic wipe to the skin surrounding his upper right shoulder.

The professor walked past his open window, no visible light showing through. What was the vigilante doing on school grounds, injured?

"Come on, Robin, you're careless enough to let a druggie shoot you in the arm, you'd better… be able to…" The kid didn't finish his sentence as he tried pulling out a shard of metal from his bullet wound. He didn't bother with the blood that was dripping from his elbow. "Lucky, happened to hit my right arm rather than my left," Robin quietly commented to himself.

"Lucky it only grazed you," Professor Blackburn interjected. He decided to help the boy after cringingly watching him incorrectly clean up the debris in his arm.

Robin jumped to his feet and the red metal box flipped onto its side. A roll of gauze, tweezers, a container of band aids, and some other medical supplies fell out. Robin, although in a fighting stance, looked wary. His suit was ripped in several places and his hair was ruffled, not to mention the colorful bruise he was sporting right above his eyebrow that was somehow visible under the light provided by the moon. The gash on his upper right arm was still dripping blood. The kid's eyes were squinted in an effort to stay awake, either that or to keep from swaying. It was hard to tell, based off the kid's condition. Then, very ungracefully, Robin spun around and threw up into the bush behind him.

Professor Blackburn concluded that the kid had either been drugged up or he had a concussion.

The professor walked over to Robin and helped lower him back into a sitting position.

"Stupid," Robin coughed, but at this point he wasn't resisting the older man's help. He sunk back to the grass, his legs shaking, but thankfully they didn't collapse under his feet. Professor Blackburn wasn't sure he would've been able to take the kid's weight if he had.

Professor Blackburn then knelt down and took the boy's arm to inspect the wound. It wasn't as bad as he had expected, but there were pieces of dirt and a sliver of metal that the bullet had left behind.

The box was moved back into an upright position. Professor Blackburn placed the stuff that had fallen out of the box back in and set it by his side. He gave a gruff sigh. "What medical supplies do you have in the box?" Robin gave him an odd look. "I may be able to patch up your arm." The older man explained, sensing distrust from the boy.

Robin hesitantly answered. "Enough to sow up my arm," he grinded his teeth in pain as he explained. "There's gauze, I have the antiseptic here," he held it out to prove his point. Professor Blackburn carefully took it. "There should be supplies for stitches somewhere in there."

The professor nodded. He took the boy's arm into his hand to give it another inspection. He silently pulled a pair of gloves out of the red metal box and slipped them on. He then took the tweezers from the box along with the stitches and a small bottle of alcohol. He poured the alcohol over the tweezers to disinfect them since they had fallen to the ground, then wiped them off with one of the little packaged wipes. The last thing the boy needed was an infection.

He took out an alcohol wipe. He kept it in his right hand and grasped Robins arm in his left. The wipe hovered over the wound. "I'm not going to lie, this is going to sting," he warned.

Robin nodded in acknowledgement.

The old professor nodded back, then continued wiping around the surface of the wound. Robin hissed in pain, but after he didn't make a sound.

"What exactly happened?" Professor Blackburn asked. He had to know the cause of the vomiting in order to treat that as well. The hero needed his identity to be kept secret, that made sense and all, but he couldn't let the kid wander back to his secret cave or wherever on his own. Not drugged or concussed.

"That's classified information." In the midst of Robin's attempt to sound authoritative, his voice faltered. He nervously shifted his position.

Professor Blackburn stopped his movements. He looked at the boy in the eyes and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not entirely sure how you expected to patch up your own arm one-handed, and I'm not sure how you expect to get home on your own without wobbling all over. If you want me to let you head out on your own, you'll tell me." The kid was not pulling _that_ stunt with him.

While he waited for Robin's response, he lowered his head back down and focused on cleaning the wound as much as he could without the tweezers.

Robin sighed. "I was fighting the Riddler, and he managed to wallop me over the head with the metal stick of his. I've felt pretty queasy since, so it's probably a concussion. Disorientation should've been a clue too. I was able to apprehend him though, and I got him to Commissioner Gordon. On my way back to the Bat's hideout though, I heard this girl yell for help." The kid gave a sly, yet grimacing grin. "Having a concussion doesn't help with dodging bullets."

"Is the girl alright?" Professor Blackburn asked.

Robin nodded. He put a finger up to the sides of his mask and pushed it further into place. "Yeah, she's fine. She ran off as soon as I dropped in."

The professor set the wipe down and picked up the tweezers. "There's a small shard wedged in your arm from the bullet."

Robin gave a small laugh. "Yeah, I've noticed."

Professor Blackburn was mildly impressed by the kid's response to the whole situation. "I'm going to have to pull it out," he continued, "and it's not going to feel pleasant."

"I'll manage," Robin concluded.

The professor pressed the piece of metal between the tweezers and slowly pulled it out, not wanting to disrupt the wound more than it had been. He had decided not to ask too many questions, just the ones necessary to get the kid on his way. Questions like: Where was Batman? Was Robin patrolling on his own without permission? Why hadn't Robin contacted Batman for help? Why did Robin have a medical box in the bushes right outside Gotham Academy? Exactly how old _was_ Robin? He'd been partners with the Batman for four years now, and the kid seemed no older than 14.

The sliver thankfully came out in one piece, which meant he wouldn't have to fish too far into the kid's arm for the last pieces of rubble. He pulled out the needle from the med box and disinfected it with the alcohol. He waited the minute it took to get the needle germ-free. He then pulled out the stitching thread and began sowing the wound back together.

"You'll have a scar, but it'll barely show, if at all," Professor Blackburn said as he stitched Robin's arm.

Robin gave a small, sad chuckle. "This is the fourth time Batman's let me go solo and patrol Gotham on my own. Fourth time, and in Batman's eyes I've already proven that I can't do this on my own. He's not tolerant towards carelessness or mistakes, so I tried at least cleaning it up myself."

Professor Blackburn didn't breathe a word. What could he say in response? And was the kid seriously volunteering information? It did answer a couple of his questions, but he wasn't expecting answers at all. Then again, this was Robin, not Batman. He also needed to factor in that this was a _child_ with a _concussion_.

He cut off the end of the stitch and inspected his work. "Well, there you go. Your arm should be fine; the bullet didn't hit anything important. I'd give your shoulder a week of rest so you don't pull the stitches. Normally I would recommend two weeks at least, maybe more since you've got that concussion of yours, but knowing your line of work my advice is probably already being overwritten." His gruff voice left a little room for humor. He ran a wiped down the boy's arm, cleaning up the blood.

The professor stood up and took a step back, watching the boy get up. His arms were crossed and a frown outlined his face.

"Thanks." Robin stood up slowly. He rotated his shoulder, testing it limits. He tried to take a step forward, but his body wavered under his feet. "Great, so not going to feel the aster." Robin was clearly frustrated.

"I think it's high time you call Batman," Professor Blackburn advised.

"So do I," a third voice entered the conversation, and Professor Blackburn could guess who it belonged to just from the tone and from Robin's expression. Batman fell from the top of the school building and landed with ease. "You should have called as soon as you were having trouble with The Riddler," Batman practically growled.

Robin did some sort of shuffle. "I got him to Gordon, didn't I?" He tried making his case, but Professor Blackburn was backing up Batman on this one, and Batman looked anything but amused. He took a few steps towards Robin.

"Go get in the Batmobile." His voice was soft, mixed with both agitation and gentleness. "I want to have you check up with Agent A when we get back to the Batcave. And to make myself clear, if you pull a stunt like this again, I guarantee that you won't be patrolling by yourself for at least another year."

Robin sighed in defeat and walked in the direction of Batman's finger. The kid disappeared through the trees. Professor Blackburn was surprised that Batman even let the kid walk to the car on his own, the way he was swaying.

Batman sighed too. "What happened?" He asked, his voice masked in a deep tone.

Professor Blackburn peeled the gloves from his fingers. "He has a concussion, I'm not sure how severe, but my guess would be its fairly mild. I cleaned up a grazed bullet wound that he says he got from a 'couple of druggies.' The concussion he attained from the Riddler. Don't know if that helps at all."

Batman nodded. "Thanks, John." Then he ran off into the night, leaving the professor in between the trees and the school building, alone.

Professor Blackburn was both stunned and shocked that _The Batman_ knew his name. But then again, this was The Batman we're talking about here. John Blackburn smiled. Of course he knew his name.


End file.
